


MY SUMMER FLING

by GACKTSMUT



Category: Gackt (Musician) - Fandom, YELLOW FRIED CHICKENz
Genre: M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-09
Updated: 2013-02-09
Packaged: 2017-11-28 16:45:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/676631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GACKTSMUT/pseuds/GACKTSMUT
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Jon x Gackt joint</p>
<p>Months after YELLOW FRIED CHICKENz has broken up, Jon thinks back on his summer love, G.</p>
            </blockquote>





	MY SUMMER FLING

Months after the band broke up, Jon was still thinking about G. He thought about calling the guy up for a drink or eight, but for some reason, got all shy. Too soon to hook up, you think? he thought, putting down his phone for what seemed like the third time since he thought of calling up his former bandmate. I’m sure he’s busy as hell. He may not even pick up. Jon thought of sending him a message, but thought against it. 

Ugh, why am I acting this way? This is G we’re talking about. He and I have always been really cool. Why do I think I’d be getting the cold shoulder? Well, for one thing - he hasn’t called since July. It made him sad. He thought about the last show - YFCz taking their final bow, the crew packing up the show, backstage after everything, the after-party. Still felt like a band then. It was only after Chachamaru and You left the bar that night that Jon really allowed for the fact to sink in. The band was done. G was done and would be moving on to his next projects. Always had to keep moving, G. 

They were the last people in the bar, naturally. Jon remembered that he could not take his eyes off G. The gamut of emotions that ran through his heart in those moments heightened by the alcohol and the adrenalin of the show just starting to fade. He thought of all the shit he and G had been through both good and bad these last years. What a fucking ride all of it was. All of it, man. 

What is going through that mind of yours right now? G had asked him, tapping his brow. He had noticed that Jon had not stopped staring at him, and he felt very tender toward his bandmate and friend. He would miss him. He would miss these small moments, when Jon would just keep his eyes fixed on him and he would have to ask him what he was thinking of. Jon was interesting and sweet that way. 

I…Jon started to say. His voice caught on his throat. Nah, man, I just wanted to say thank you. It’s been…surreal to say the least. G broke into one of his biggest grins as memories flooded back. I know, he said. Fucking crazy, right. 

Just how many acts of fan service did G and he do throughout the YFCz’s short, incendiary existence? The thought of ever being petrified to perform in such a way seemed a lifetime ago, and it made Jon laugh to himself. It’s funny now, and he would never admit that he was scared to ever try. It was his total trust in G that erased all doubt that he ever could, and every time they did something onstage and the girls in the audience would start to lose their shit over them touching…it was priceless. And the entire experience was thanks to this guy, who worked like a horse, was very pushy, demanding and exacting. Jon’s mind reeled back to rehearsals, when he and G would work out their movements in front of mirrors so as to create the maximum effect for the show. To say that G knew what he wanted from their performances was an understatement. G knew precisely, down to the last hand gesture, down to the smallest flick of a wrist, when to gesture this way, when to touch Jon’s chest, when to time all of these so that it created the most outrageous outcome during the live shows. Do it this way, G would say, arranging Jon’s body in front of the mirror. It looks better. Try it. See? 

G would be right every time, of course. He was an absolute demon to work with, always expecting his band and his staff to keep up with his pace 100% of the time. Not ever acknowledging how tired he or everyone else might have been. Striving for utmost perfection in the details, even in the sillier aspects, like the fan service. Jon never questioned it. 

There were times though, that not even the most minute of calculations during the strictest rehearsal sessions could prevent the spontaneity of certain…things from occurring during the actual show. Not only did G know this, he reveled in the possibility that something unexpected could always happen. And when it did - Jon surprised even himself that in that aspect, he matched G’s pace perfectly. And it would always be beautiful. The wall of a thousand screams that would hit him in his face was more than enough proof. 

Rehearsing the movements was certainly one thing and performing them onstage another. G was always business-like about the choreography, clinical even. But onstage it seemed that some sort of beast inside G would always be unleashed. It would go past performance into a place that was so raw, Jon could only be swept up by it. 

This had been especially true for the Europe tour. G’s aura before every show was crazy violent. Jon would feel this white heat burning off from G’s body by simply standing next to him backstage. And he knew it wasn’t his imagination that G’s crazy eyes were crazier than usual. His body reacted in the strangest way seeing G that fired up. 

The venues were more intimate, and G loved that the tighter space afforded him more opportunity to maintain closer contact with the audience. He would glare out at specific people in the crowd and generally be a hundred times more the ero-terrorist than he usually was, inspiring Jon to step up his game.  
Onstage, the chemistry between them felt so natural and organic. They moved like clockwork. Even with their backs to each other, they sensed what the other was doing at any given moment.

And when Jon would wrap his arm around G’s body as he held him to his chest and he would collapse against him amid the screaming, Jon would feel his body release all inhibition. The thoughts that never occurred to him offstage were now being teased into submission by the show’s atmosphere. You’d have to be a fucking statue not to have this affect you, especially when G was holding the reins. 

The rush of rock and roll was very similar to a sexual buildup, and they both ran with it. In Leipzig, something in Jon clicked: I’m in an amazing band, I’m in Europe, and I’m air humping this gorgeous man in front of a hundred people. Fuck it - this is getting me hot, so help me god, G! 

He never got completely hard onstage, but many times on that tour, Jon came dangerously close. He was never embarrassed by accidentally getting wood, and if it helped the overall impact of the show, then great. But damn if it wasn’t frustrating. 

It’s getting to you, right? G had noticed, of course he had. Nothing got past that guy. After one of the shows, they got loaded and G just launched right into the heart of the matter. When it was just the two of them like this, with the stage makeup off, everything should have felt normal. They had spent hours like this in the past, writing songs, re-working lyrics. G sitting next to him, wearing his trademark sunglasses, his hair flat. It was like pulling a protective curtain around himself when he was not onstage. Jon recognized this as G’s creative hermit look. Now though…certain realizations were clicking into place, and Jon was unable to stop them from shifting within himself. He wasn’t scared exactly, but he wanted to be sure about what he could do about it. G kept his eyes on this friend. Talk to me, buddy. I’ve been there. This is getting to you.

Should I apologize or something? Jon didn’t have any words. He decided to go for comic relief. Occupational hazard, I guess. 

Listen, man. You’re doing an amazing job, and I could not be prouder or happier to be doing this with you. G had clapped a hand on Jon’s shoulder. Jon put his hand over his and held it. Thanks, G. He looked into his bandmate’s face then and smiled, but this did nothing to calm down the hard-on that was building up. Good lord, what a beautiful face. What an amazing body. I would do anything and go anywhere for you, G.

Please tell me what you want. G’s voice was soft and gentle. This was the voice he used when the cameras weren’t rolling and he wasn’t being the superstar everyone else expected him to be. Just let it go, Jon. G pressed his face closer to Jon’s.

Bam. That was it. That was all he needed. From thereon out, Jon’s body dictated that he grab G with both hands. He needed to feel his mouth on those lips. When Jon felt the intensity of his kiss being matched, he felt his body being lifted off the couch. Oh my god…I’m really doing this. I couldn’t help myself and I’m really doing this. G’s lips were exceedingly soft but he kissed hard. There was nothing hesitant or tentative about this at all, as what was expected from anything G put his mind to. It was just do or die. Jon opened up a little more when he felt G’s tongue seeking his out. 

Kissing another dude was way different from kissing girls, he found out. With girls, you somehow had to start off with care, to test the waters before plunging in, beginning slow before the crescendo. Kissing girls was like doing harmonics - it was challenging, requiring technique and skill. It demanded timing of pressure and release. Kissing G was in contrast, a giant power chord. All six strings on a furious downstroke, quickly followed by a sharp upstroke. The contrast got him even harder. He needed G’s hands on him. 

Leading G’s hand to his hard-on and feeling G grope him through his clothes like this was almost too much for Jon. Biting down on G’s lip, he reached down and freed himself. The way G gripped him was a delicious shock. Like the kiss, another man’s touch was very different from a girl’s and he was caught off guard at how natural this felt. Another man would know just how firm a grip on his own cock should be. Just like this, more, faster. He felt G pushing him back, adjusting himself so that Jon could lean back farther and allowed G to move over him. Jon put his hands on G’s head, signaling assent. I want you to. 

A cry escaped Jon’s lips as G’s mouth made contact. Jon’s hips pushed forward as he fucked G’s mouth. He thought of easing up a bit, but figured G could take it. Jon, he heard his name being called. He looked down at G’s face, flushed, beautiful, lips moving over his cock. That wicked little smirk. Oh but he could work it even when he’s not in the spotlight. Jon, he said again, his tone teasing. 

Oh, you bastard. You’re enjoying this way too much. But I’m not cumming in your mouth. 

Leaning forward to silence him with a series of kisses, both moved almost at the same time to tear off the clothes from each other’s bodies. Jesus Christ are we that in sync with each other’s rhythms? As soon as they got them off, and their skin made contact, Jon’s hands moved all over G’s body. He could feel his muscles straining against his in exquisite torture. Jon practically ripped the pants off G. A pair of really expensive pants, but oh well. G clicked his tongue against his teeth. Yep. Jon lunged at him before he could say anything. That shut him up good. 

G moved over him until he was straddling Jon. G was completely naked now, and pulling off Jon’s pants. From where he was half lying, half sitting, Jon had a perfect view of G’s cock. He wasn’t lying about that Magnum shit. Dude was hung. Spitting into his palm, Jon slid his hand over G’s cock and started jacking him off.  
A funny thought flitted through his mind. He remembered coming across a meme on the internet not long before. Your uke needs you. Which one am I? Am I the uke? Or the seme? 

Before he could complete the thought, G had taken Jon’s cock and impaled himself on it. Oh my god…Jon thew his head back as his cock entered G’s tightness. There’s your answer Underdown. Holy fuck. G moved slowly, up and down Jon’s length, doing most of the work. Are you fucking crazy G? Don’t you use lube? 

Wrapping his arms around him, Jon started to move inside G. It took some effort to slow down, but he wanted to see how long he could go. Grabbing hold of G’s cock, he planted small bites on his collarbone, licked the base of his throat. G held on tighter as he rode Jon’s cock. 

Jon flipped them over so that now G was under him. A look of surprise flashed across G’s eyes. Taking control now, Jon? Damn right. Lifting G’s legs up, Jon pushed back inside and felt G close his arms around him. His lips were next to his ear. Soon, G was whispering Jon’s name over and over again. Jon went faster. The thought of making G lose control this way…  
I’m close I’m close I’m close…

Just as he was about to cum, G held Jon’s face in his hands. Keep your eyes on me, Jon. Don’t close them. Keep your eyes on me when you cum. And like putting a seal to a contract, he planted a soft kiss on Jon’s lips. It was the most tender kiss Jon had ever gotten. 

He came so hard.


End file.
